Wandering Child
by moviebuffgirl
Summary: After she runs away to join the circus, Christy, the daughter of Erik and Christine, is thrown into a world of dark plots, shady characters, and secrets of her father's past. Can she escape? Sequel to The Phantom The Duchess and The Viscount. ON HOLD.
1. Life in Gay Paris

**Chapter One: Life in Gay Paris**

_**Wiltshire Manor, Paris, 1883**_

"Finished, my lord?"

12-year old Rick Daae looked up from his musical composition to see Chauncy standing over him with a questioning look on his face.

Chauncy was one of the many butlers that served the Daae family, the second most powerful clan in England. Rick's grandmother, Charlotte Daae, was the youngest half-sister of the present King of England, making Rick and his sister third in line for the throne (after the Crown Prince and his brother, Edward). Despite their high position in society, the Daaes were known to have rather simple tastes. Rick's father was known for being a commoner and the childhood friend of Rick's mother, who had revealed a lovely singing voice when Erik and his sister were very young. She had given several performances in London, and now that they had relocated to Paris for the time being, she had promised their family friend, Madame Giry, to sing an aria in the Opera Populaire.

"Yes, yes, thank you Chauncy old boy," Rick replied, returning to his work.

Chauncy nodded and took the soup bowl that was sitting in front of Rick and quietly walked away.

Rick's younger twin sister, Christy, laughed at something their father said. Their father had on his trademark white mask, which hid some facial scars. Neither Rick nor his sister cared that their father was a little deformed; what he lacked in looks he certainly more than made up for in his devotion to his wife and his family. Whereas other noblemen bedded their friends' wives, the Duke of Wiltshire did not.

And why should he? The duchess was stunning in every way possible; even though she was thirty years old, the older Christine effortlessly captured the attention of men, old and young alike.

"Rick, have you talked to Alessandra lately?" his father asked before taking a bite of some mashed potatoes.

Rick blushed. Alessandra Colbert was the young daughter of Eugene and Lucille Colbert, the childhood friends of his mother. Although Alessandra had a lovely disposition, Rick favored another beauty.

Soleil de Maupassant.

She was the 18-year old singing prodigy of the Opera Populaire and Rick's long-standing love. Soleil had no idea of his feelings for her however; which was why he was preparing a full opera for her to perform in. Unfortunately, he couldn't bring himself to write the love scenes between Soleil's supposed character and the character he had based on himself.

It made him think of too many vulgar images.

"Erik?" he heard his mother say, and he cringed.

"Rick, Mother. My name is Rick," he stressed, snapping out of his mini reverie. "And no, Father, I haven't talked to Alessandra lately. Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. I just ran into Eugene in the race track yesterday and he mentioned that Alessandra was... clamoring for you." The Duke grinned at his son mischievously. "I just knew you'd grow up to be a ladies' man, Erik."

Rick sighed. His parents loved calling him Erik - he was his father's namesake, after all - as opposed to his preferred name: Rick.

_"Are you saying you don't like being named after me?" his father had demanded many years ago. "The outrage!"_

Of course, Rick knew his father was only kidding, but that didn't stop him from insisting that he be called Rick.

His mother had complied, but his father and sister... oh how they loved teasing him.

"I don't fancy her Father," Rick said for what seemed like the thousandth time. "I know you and Mother expect me to fall in love with her, but frankly I don't see that happening.

Christy promptly whacked him on the shoulder with her throw pillow.

"Christy!" their mother scolded gently. "Please don't hit your brother."

"Sorry Mother," Christy apologized, but Rick knew better. When their mother wasn't looking, Christy kicked him under the table, but Rick blocked it with his shoe.

"A bit 1880, isn't it?" Rick said calmly, while Christy pouted. Rick loved nothing more than to win at their little fights, but he usually conceded defeat whenever Christy began looking upset. Like his father, he was a sucker for the females in the family.

"Oh shut up," Christy said, throwing him an imperious look. "Come on, are you still working on your opera? You know Madame Giry is excited to see it."

"It's... not finished yet," Rick admitted sheepishly. "I mean there are some things I'm having... well, I'm not sure I should put a few scenes in."

"Do you need help?" Christy pressed, standing up and walking over to him. "Let me see."

"No, I can... Christy!"

Christy read the musical scales. "Well it looks okay, but why does it seem a bit low? This is good for a love scene nothing mo-"she broke off and her eyes sparkled.

_Why does she have to be a genius in music as well?_ Rick griped silently. _Now she knows._

"Papa, Rick is writing a love scene! It says: 'and he untied his beloved's bodice and kissed her on the lips feverishly..'" Christy announced loudly, causing the Duke to choke on his wine. The Duchess looked at her son in surprise.

"Rick, my love, why are you including a love scene in your first opera?" her eyebrows raised slightly, but she did not have a disapproving look on her face. "Isn't that a bit too much for a beginner?"

"It's a love story Mother," Rick explained quickly, fully aware of his father coughing and Christy giggling wildly as she showed her father the scales he had written. "I thought it appropriate to bring a love scene into the story."

"Well, if you wish for your father to help you, I'm sure he wouldn't refuse," she told him, throwing the Duke a warning glance.

Rick looked at his father and Christy, who both looked as if Christmas had come early for them.

"I can do this Mother," he assured her. He didn't like the idea of being stuck in a room with his father talking about love and love scenes. "I know you and Father have an important luncheon to attend."

"Nonsense! You know I can always spend time with my only son," The Duke declared.

_Swell_, Rick thought.

Out loud he said: "Thank you Father."

Christy plopped back on her chair and finished the rest of her breakfast. Finally she sat up straight and waited until Chauncy collected her plate. "May I please be excused?"

"Of course, beloved," The Duke said, and Christy smiled happily and kissed him on the cheek before walking out of the dining room.

"I'd better be leaving as well. Mother, Father." Rick stood up and kissed his mother's hand before getting the musical scales from his father.

"I'll be in the library if you need me, son," he heard his father call after him. "We can discuss your planned, er, love scenes then."

Rick refrained from rolling his eyes and stepped out onto the hallway.

* * *

"Oh Erik, must you tease him so?" Christine asked as she and Erik strolled down one of the upper corridors in their home. "He may be mature for his age, but he is still a child."

"Erik has always been mature. I just want him to realize that he should lighten up a little and enjoy his childhood. The boy is always reading!"

"I've always loved books Erik. He just takes after me and Papa," Christine said softly, placing her hand on Erik's arm. "I know you mean well, but I fear that he may not take it as such. I don't want a rift building between you and him."

"Very well. I must admit that you can't blame him for his seriousness. He is set to be the next Duke after all," Erik conceded. "But at least allow me to bring our children shopping. Perhaps that would make our son remember that he has but a few months of childhood left."

Christine smiled and kissed her husband. "Of course. I wouldn't deny you that pleasure. I'd go with you but..." she trailed one hand lovingly over her swelling belly.

Erik bent down and kissed his wife's stomach. "I know. Your condition is delicate. I wouldn't want anything happening to you and the baby. Little Gustave."

"Or Charlotte," Christine reminded him.

Erik laughed. "How could I forget?"

The sudden burst of laughter from Christy and Rick's room caused them to stop.

"There they go again." No matter how hard he tried to deny it, he loved hearing his children laughing and playing. Of course, the time would soon come when they would have to settle into their roles as the next Duke and Duchess of Wiltshire, which made Erik cherish the remaining time even more.

"Oh I hope Christy doesn't try to jump from her window and onto her horse again," Christine fretted.

"I'll go see what they're doing. Come, let's get you to bed." Erik guided his wife into their bedroom, which was a few doors away from their children's room. Christine laid her head on the soft pillows and smiled when Erik kissed her.

"I love you."

"And I love you Chrissy. Sleep well." Erik reluctantly let go of her hand and left the bedroom. It only took him a few minutes to reach Christy and Rick's room. Upon opening the door, he saw Rick and Christy on their beds, the latter holding on to a makeshift rope. Rick was clutching his sister's arm, as if preventing her from swinging off her bed.

"What's going on?" he inquired. "Christy?"

"Um, we were playing?" Christy replied lamely.

When Erik gave her a stern look, she giggled. "I wanted to see if I could swing from my bed and into that pile of pillows. But Rick doesn't want me to."

"Father, she..."

Erik raised his hand to silence them and saw the "pile of pillows" was actually made up of Christy's blankets, Rick's pillows, and their cat's bed.

"Christy, come here," he said, and Christy stopped smiling. He hated having to scold either Christy or Rick, but he knew if he didn't, they would grow up to be unruly. Christy followed him out of the room; from the corner of his eye he saw Rick jump off his bed and begin fixing the room.

Christy stood before him in the hallway, her eyes downcast.

"Christy, you know your mother and I don't approve of your reckless behaviour. I would have understood if it was your brother who was doing the things you do, but you're not acting like a proper lady," he began.

"But Papa, I act like a lady! Sometimes."

Erik knew it was true. But recently Christy seemed to be more rebellious. Last week she had taken off without any chaperone and spent the entire day in their country house. Erik and Christine had frantically searched for her, only to find her strolling into the manor the next morning. And yesterday she had attempted to climb a tree... in a dress. During afternoon tea.

"I know, love. I know. But you must understand the expectations placed on you. You and your brother are practically royalty. English and French society expect you to be a proper lady, with the right manners, behaviour, and etiquette," Erik continued.

Christy frowned, her dainty nose wrinkling. "I don't understand, Papa. Why can other children do whatever they want and not be scolded by their parents? Why can't I be me?"

Erik reached out to her but she was too quick. She raced down the hallway, her feet pounding furiously on the soft carpet. Erik sighed. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts that he jumped when he heard his son's voice.

"She really should learn how to be more mature, Father," he murmured softly.

"I know. But... I know how she feels. I had a hard time learning how to be a proper duke when I first married your mother," Erik admitted.

Rick stood by his side silently, nodding his head slowly. "I'll go after her and see that she's okay," Rick said after some time.

"Thank you Rick." Erik watched as his son ran after Christy before heading back to his bedroom.

As he closed the door Christine opened her eyes. "What happened?"

"Christy thinks we're holding her back. All those rules and restrictions are stifling her," Erik said, lying down beside his wife. Christine snuggled up to him and lay her face close to his own.

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"She needs time. Maybe I shouldn't have scolded her," Erik said regretfully.

"You weren't harsh with her, my love. But perhaps you should wait for the right time to chastise her. She was having fun." Christine closed her eyes again. She felt tired, and the baby's kicking did nothing to help her rest.

"So are you saying I ruined her morning?"

"Well... yes. But don't blame yourself, Erik. You only sought to teach her what was right." Christine squeezed his hand comfortingly and yawned.

Erik waited until his wife was asleep before leaving. He searched for his children all over the manor and found them in the library. Christy was sitting on his favourite armchair while swinging her legs back and forth. Rick was on the table, writing furiously.

Erik cleared his throat and stepped in.

* * *

"Papa doesn't understand. I want to run wild and free! Like a horse," Christy declared, her arms akimbo. "Why do dukes and duchesses have to act so serious anyway?"

"That's the way of life, Christy. You can't escape who you were born to be," Rick replied as he placed the final details on his opera. He had decided to limit the love scenes to kissing, which made his work easier. Only a few more scenes and he would be finished.

"I hate being a duchess," Christy grumbled.

"What would you rather be? A shopkeeper's daughter?" Rick said sarcastically.

"If it means I can do whatever I want, then yes!"

"Be careful what you wish for, Christy. It may come true," Rick cautioned her.

Christy harrumphed and leaned back against their father's armchair, swinging her legs to and fro.

A few seconds later their father walked in smiling.

"Erik. Christy," he said. "Would you like to go shopping with me?"

Rick shook his head. "No thank you, Father. I'm about to finish my opera."

"I would!" Christy piped up. "If you're not angry at me anymore, Papa."

"Why would I be mad at you, mon cherie?" Erik said gently, and Christy brightened immediately. "Erik Christian Daae, I insist that you come with us."

Rick threw his father a swift glance before writing a few more notes on his paper. Finally he threw down his quill and sighed. "Fine, I'm going, I'm going."

Christy squealed with delight and wrapped her arms around Erik. "Is Mama coming with us?"

"She wants to, but your younger sibling is very demanding," Erik told her. "Once she has given birth she'll be able to accompany us on our little trips like she used to."

"And she can bring our little sister!" Christy exclaimed excitedly.

"How are you so sure that we'll have a sister?" Rick asked her. "It could very well be a boy."

"I know it's a girl because it moves around a lot," Christy said, sticking her tongue out at her brother. "We'll never give you a second's peace!"

Rick didn't look too happy at the prospect.

* * *

_**Cafe Elysees, Paris, 1883**_

"Another scone, Rick?"

Rick was with his father and sister in the Cafe Elysees, their favorite afternoon stop in Paris. Christy was polishing off the buttermilk scones, while their father chatted with a Greek trader they met who was importing coffee and tea to France.

"No thank you, Christy." Rick tapped his fingers on the table absent-mindedly. He could be writing the last scenes of his opera right now, but instead he was stuck in the cafe. Rick had to admit that the shopping trip was fun; his father had bought him the suit he was to wear on his and Christy's debutante ball, while Christy had decided to buy a new pair of shoes and a muff.

_At least I can see the Opera Populaire from here_, Rick thought. The grand structure was another of their properties. His father had bought it when they were seven, and he remembered seeing it for the first time when they visited Paris a year after their loving Nanny Margerethe died.

"What are you thinking about?" Christy asked him as she ate the last scone.

"My opera," he said.

Christy rolled her eyes. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"No." It was true - he usually thought about his opera... and Soleil.

Speaking of Soleil..

"Soleil!" he called. He had spotted Soleil's telltale red hair as she walked past a few shoppers with her parents. Monsieur and Madame de Maupassant saw him and smiled widely.

His father had turned from the trader and waved Soleil and her parents over. Soleil was looking radiant: her hair was pulled back with a hair clip and she was wearing a dress of deep burgundy, making her pale skin look even paler.

"Monsieur and Madame de Maupassant. And Soleil. Such a pleasure," his father said, kissing the hands of Soleil and her mother. "Please, join us."

Rick hoped that Soleil would sit beside him, but instead she sat beside Christy. He tried hard not to feel _too_ disappointed.

His father quickly wrapped up his conversation with the trader, who bowed and exited the cafe.

"Business," Erik told Monsieur de Maupassant. "Forgive me, where are my manners? Would you like something to eat?"

A waiter rushed forward and Erik ordered two cups of black coffee, a glass of freshly squeezed lemon juice, and a plate of croissants and crepes, per the request of Soleil and her parents.

While waiting Soleil and Christy talked about the latest fashion trends, while Rick tried in vain to join in their conversation.

"Will the opera have any new plays soon?" Rick finally managed to ask.

Soleil shook her head. "Just the same ones. I declined Madame Giry's offer to star in 'Romeo and Juliet'; I seem to prefer teaching the younger performers lately."

"Oh. I was writing an opera, you see."

"Oh yes, I remember Madame Giry mentioning it a few days ago. What is it about?"

"It's a love story, but I don't want to divulge the details," Rick said mysteriously, while throwing his sister a warning glance.

Christy must have gotten the message, because she did not mention the inclusion of a love scene in his opera.

"I can't wait to read it," Soleil said, smiling.

"I wrote a part with you in mind," he blurted out. As soon as the words left his lips, he cringed.

Soleil didn't seem to notice, although Christy gasped.

_Great, now my sister knows_, Rick thought. _She'll never let me hear the end of this_.

"You did? That's very sweet of you." Soleil smiled at him again and Rick felt his heart beat fast. He knew it wasn't proper to fall in love with someone six years his senior, but who was he kidding? His father was three years older than his mother!

_One day I'll tell you how much I love you, Soleil_, Rick promised her silently, watching her sip her lemon juice. _I just hope that you'll love me back_.

* * *

_Does he like me?_ Soleil thought.

Ever since she and her parents joined the Duke of Wiltshire and his two lovely children, she had noticed that Rick had given her his full attention. Dared she hope that he was looking at her with admiration and... love?

Soleil found the young aristocrat charming and attractive, even if she had heard rumours that he seemed to be acting older than his age. Other girls found it off-putting, but Soleil liked maturity. Most of the boys her age were so full of themselves that she had stopped accepting suitors. Instead, she had thrown herself into performing on stage and training future divas and ballerinas. But there were times when she wished that she had someone waiting for her backstage, someone who would take care of her and love her.

Someone like - Rick.

Soleil glanced at him and saw that he was staring wistfully out of the window, but the moment she looked at him, he shifted his gaze from the street and onto her face. Soleil could feel something pass between them, which sent delicious shivers up and down her body.

Rick smiled, and Soleil smiled back.

_I love you, Rick_, she thought, finally averting her gaze from his handsome face. _But you're younger than me. I'm not even sure if you even find me attractive, or if you're just being the perfect gentleman._

* * *

**Author's Note: To help you imagine what Soleil, Rick and Christy look like, their portrayers are**

**Rick = Cameron Bright (12 years old); Cillian Murphy (24 years old)**

**Christy = Ryan Newman (12 years old); Tahnee Atkinson (24 years old)**

**Soleil = Molly C. Quinn (18 years old); Rachel Hurd-Wood (30 years old)**

**What do you think? Do you have suggestions of your own? :)**


	2. The Pains of Being a Duke's Daughter

**Chapter Two: The Pains of Being a Duke's Daughter**

_**Wiltshire Manor, Paris, 1883**_

"No, I suggest we impose higher taxes! We do need to provide them with better living conditions, don't we?"

"But Auguste, have you ever given a thought to the welfare of the people? They are having a difficult time coping with the copious amounts of tax adjustments you have been giving them since late last year!"

"I mean no disrespect, my Lord, but there are some things we have to do to ensure that they survive."

"And robbing them of what little money they have left is the way to go, is it?"

Christy looked up at her book and frowned. She hated how the Earl of Nantes, Auguste Reievefre, seemed to consider the welfare of the people - her people - unimportant. Both she and her brother knew that all he was after was a hefty collection every month to finance his new wife's incessant demands for luxuries she had previously been unable to afford. She saw her father's eyes darken, but apart from that there was no sign that the Duke of Wiltshire disapproved of Auguste's plans.

"Calm down," Rick whispered to her, placing one hand on her arm and squeezing it. "Your expression gives too much away."

She grimaced. "Is it that obvious? I wish Papa would put him in his place. He is overstepping his boundaries."

Rick smiled with amusement. "If only you were free to speak your mind in Father's meetings, sister. I'm certain things would become very interesting."

Christy sighed and went back to reading. Still, Auguste's arguments for a raise in the taxes rang in her ears, and she clenched the edges of her book tightly.

She silently promised herself she would not speak out, but Auguste finally pushed her resolve too far.

"They were born to serve us, my Lord. Why not use them to their fullest potential?" the Earl drawled.

Christy slammed her book shut with such force that everyone in the library jumped, including her father.

"The people were not born to serve us, Earl Reievefre," she said lowly. "_We_ were born to serve _them_. Why do you think we have an arsenal of resources at our command? To pander to our every whim?"

The Earl stood up and faced her. "Why am I being dictated to by a child? And a girl, no less!"

Christy opened her mouth to protest but was silenced by Rick, who jumped to her defense.

"She may be a girl, but she still has a higher status than you, Auguste," Rick said, dispensing of all formalities and glaring at the Earl with great dislike. "And I agree with her views."

The Earl spluttered with disbelief and turned to the Duke for support. "Is this how you educate your children? To speak against their elders?"

Rick and Christy looked at their father expectantly.

The Duke studied the Earl levelly. "I educate my children to speak for themselves against people older or younger than them. They have voices, do they not?"

"But I am their superior!"

"No, my dear Auguste, you are merely older than them. Frankly my daughter has spoken what almost everyone in this room was thinking."

"Your education of your children is wrong," the Earl spat. "I have heard of what she did at her eighth birthday party. She's growing up to be an improper young lady!"

"Be that as it may, my education of my children should not concern you. If you focused on more important matters other than your simpering wife, you may have had a better grasp of the situation at hand. Sit down." The Duke waited until the Earl had reluctantly sat down before training his eyes on his children.

"Erik, Christine, leave us please. I shall talk to you later."

Christy seemed ready to argue, but Rick pulled his sister from the room and out onto the hallway.

"Why did you have to argue against the Earl?" Rick asked her in an exasperated tone. "You know nobody is allowed to interrupt Father's meetings! It's lucky we've been allowed in lately!"

Christy stomped her foot. "Why is everyone so concerned about keeping up pretenses? Why can't women be treated on equal ground as men? Do I have to be like this for the rest of my life?"

Rick sighed. "Christy, you dream of a life that is not yours. You know how near we are to the throne. We were born into a family who have helped lead the people of England - and now of France - into the glory it is now. What do you think would have happened if all of our ancestors had given in to their wishes to act "normal"?"

"Why me?" Christy asked. "I don't feel like a leader. I don't feel like I can be as good of a duchess as Mama, or a controlled duke as Papa. I know you will be, you were born for this role. But I feel as if.."

"As if what?"

"As if I was born into the wrong family," Christy whispered. "I know it's wrong to think of it, but I can't help myself!"

Rick grasped both of her shoulders and looked at her. "Christy, you belong to this family. You don't need to be like Father or Mother to be a good duchess; you can do so in your own way."

"Yes, as a childish and ignorant young girl," Christy muttered, looking away.

"Sometimes being childish has its advantages. You only see the positive side of life and are not worried of failure, since you know that 'there is always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow', so to speak," Rick told her. "Come on Christy. Why don't you follow your own advice and find ways to serve our people? The Earl has nothing but greed on his mind, but you... you have better plans for them, I can sense it."

Christy didn't reply. Rick was wondering what his unpredictable sister was thinking about when the library doors opened and the earls, barons, and counts exited. Most of them gave a small, respectful bow to the siblings, while the Earl of Nantes ignored them. The last to leave was their father and Jean-Baptiste, one of his advisors.

"...controlled, my Lord. The Earl is sure to make rumors out of her little outburst. This would not look good during their debutante ball," Jean-Baptiste was saying in hushed tones.

"I'm right here!" Christy exclaimed, her brow furrowing. "Must you refer to me as if I am not within hearing distance, Jean-Baptiste?"

Jean-Baptiste froze and then bowed quickly. "My apologies, my Lady, my deepest apologies."

Their father looked at Christy with disappointment then turned to his advisor. "Make a report about today's meeting. I'll be damned if I let Auguste raise taxes again. My wife and I will not stand for this."

"I won't stand for it either," Christy said, which caused her father to smile slightly.

"And my daughter, of course. Go. I want to see that report on my desk before supper," the Duke instructed, and Jean-Baptiste left hastily.

Once he was gone Christy stepped up to her father. "I know what you're going to say, Papa," she said.

"And what would that be, beloved?" he asked her as they walked down the hallway.

"That I have acted out of line and that I need to control my temper," Christy said. "But Papa, the Earl is simply awful. I don't know how you can stand it..."

"Christy, what you did was not appropriate, but what you said was right. Auguste clearly has other things on his mind than the welfare of the people. But that does not mean that you should break the family protocol and voice your opinions," the Duke said as gently as possible.

"Is it because I have no experience? Why can Mama say whatever she wants and I can't?" Christy asked, trying hard to keep the anger and disdain out of her tone.

Her father must have noticed it, because when he replied it was in a much stricter tone. "Because your she is recognized by society as the current Duchess of Wiltshire and is therefore entitled to her own opinions. Christy, I know you have a lot of thoughts and ideas, but you still have much to learn."

Christy crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "I don't understand why I have to, but I'll do it anyway. For the family."

Her father smiled at her words and kissed her on the forehead. "That's my girl. Now hurry along. I must attend to the fundraiser we will be hosting."

"A fundraiser? For what?" Rick asked.

"I suggested that the nobles in Paris participate in a fundraiser to gain enough funds to repair the homes that were destroyed during the storm. It was either that or raise the people's taxes, and I'm sure the king of France would not like the idea of having his subjects mad at him for another tax raise," the Duke explained.

"Brilliant idea, Father," Rick praised. "May I help?"

"I don't see why not. But don't you have an opera to finish?" the Duke walked down the grand staircase that would lead to the main lobby, which was close to his private study.

"He finished it last night. He kept scratching on his musical sheets like mad, it drove me insane," Christy said grumpily.

"First you gripe about not being able to express your opinions and now you're ornery over the fact that your brother has finally created a masterpiece?" Rick said sarcastically. "Well aren't you becoming a downer."

Christy stuck her tongue out at her brother, who laughed.

The Duke smiled. "Well I'm glad to see that the both of you are back to normal. I'll see the two of you later in the garden, alright?" He gave Christy another kiss on the forehead while ruffling Rick's hair - much to his son's chagrin - and then walked off in the direction of his study.

* * *

"That is bleak," Stefan Brandt murmured over the rim of his glass while studying the elaborate gown one of the noblewomen was wearing. It looked like a cross between a squid and a plum. "Completely unorthodox."

Rick glanced at his friend before closing his eyes. "Stop criticizing the dresses of the ladies, Stefan. If your father could see you now..."

"Oh shut it, Rick," Stefan said, grinning as a young girl with a low neckline passed by their table. "You're just as stuffy and dull as your father."

"Father is anything but dull," Rick argued. "We just have another definition of fun."

"Whatever." Stefan waved his arm dismissively and continued ogling the female guests.

Rick had no idea that his parents had planned a small afternoon gathering that very day; shortly after they had awoke from their afternoon nap, Chauncy had announced the arrival of their guests. No less than fifty of Paris' finest were gathered in the garden, along with their young sons and daughters.

Stefan Brandt was the oldest son of Callum and Georgiana Brandt, the latter another childhood friend of Rick's mother. Stefan's other brothers and sisters were running around the garden screaming and laughing. Rick couldn't imagine what it was like to be five years older than his siblings; Stefan frequently commented that it was as if he was being constantly ostracized and left out, which would explain why he eagerly came to any of the functions hosted by Rick's family.

He also had a massive crush on Christy, which was why Rick wasn't surprised when Stefan asked: "Where's your lovely sister, Rick? I haven't seen her here since I arrived."

Rick shrugged and opened his eyes. "She's with Mother, I suppose. Why?"

"No reason." Stefan leaned back and took another sip of wine. "Ah, Alessandra!"

Rick turned his head quickly that he felt a crick in his neck. Wincing, he rubbed the sore spot as Alessandra approached their table with her younger sister, Annabella, in tow.

"Hello Stefan. Rick," Alessandra greeted, her eyes lighting up as she looked at Rick.

Stefan kissed her hand while Rick nodded in response.

"It's good to see you, Alessandra," Stefan said. "Finally, a glimpse of true beauty!"

Annabella twisted away from her sister's grasp and ran to join Stefan's siblings. Alessandra laughed her annoying twittering laugh as she sat down; Rick had pulled out a chair for her.

"Oh stop Stefan, you know that isn't true," she chided, but both boys could see her cheeks turn slightly pink. "There are other beautiful girls in Paris."

"And England," Rick added.

"Yes, of course," Alessandra agreed, her eyes never leaving Rick. If Soleil would only look at him like that...

"Look at that," Stefan whispered. "Beauty in its most primal form."

Rick and Alessandra looked up and saw Christy and the duchess appear just outside the huge glass doors that led from the banquet hall. Christy was positively glowing: she had on a pearly white dress with shoulder straps, a bodice decorated with tiny, sparkling crystals, and a full skirt. Her hair flowed freely past her shoulders, and a small drop necklace hung from her neck. While Christy captured the attention of every boy in the room, her mother easily captivated the older noblemen, including the Earl of Nantes.

Christine wore a pearl white dress just like her daughter, but this one featured off-shoulder straps and a single strip of golden silk that ran from the dress' neckline down to the hem of the skirt. Her rich brown hair was pulled in an elegant ponytail, held together by jeweled clasps, but allowed some of her hair to cascade down the nape of her neck and onto her shoulders. Her swollen belly was very evident, but this did not lessen her beauty.

Rick smiled and stood up. He quickly made his way up the steps and kissed his sister and mother's hands.

"Mother. Christy. You both look beautiful," he said. Christine smiled at him fondly and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"And you look simply dashing, my darling," she told him. She then faced the crowd and told them to continue; everyone seemed frozen in place as they watched the duchess and her two children.

From below Stefan openly gaped at Christy, while Alessandra sighed dreamily and admired Rick's firm backside. The Earl of Nantes wondered why he hadn't thought of marrying the duchess, while Georgiana Brandt and Lucille Colbert laughed and waved to Christine merrily.

"Where is Father?" Rick asked as he held his mother's arm firmly while they walked down the steps and into the garden.

"He's finishing the report," Christy replied. "I tried cajoling him to leave his study, but he insisted he needed to finish the report today."

"Oh he'll be out soon," Christine assured her children. "Unless he wants his very pregnant wife to burst through the door and -"

"Sweep me off my feet?"

Christine stopped and turned around. Christy gasped and clasped her hands to her mouth, giggling, and Rick chuckled.

"Oh Erik," Christine sighed, smiling and kissing him on the lips. "Must you keep surprising me like this?"

"I thought you loved surprises," Erik replied, grinning. "And I do agreed with our son - you and Christy look divine. Has some scoundrel won you from me?"

Christine covered her husband's hand with her own and squeezed it gently. "Never."

Christy giggled and nudged her brother.

"There they go again!" Christy laughed as her father tried to grab her arm.

"Someday you'll be like them," Rick informed her.

"And so will you!" Christy mimicked kissing sounds and Rick looked revolted.

"Oh good Lord I hope not! I wouldn't want to look - and sound - like a goldfish," Rick retorted.

Christine laughed while Erik calmed his children down.

"Come, we shouldn't be ignoring our guests," he said, and Rick and Christy immediately settled down. They made their way around the garden, greeting old friends and making small talk with most of the noblemen. It was also the duke and duchess' chance to invite them to Rick and Christy's debutante ball, which would be held that weekend. Everyone expressed their interest in coming, which delighted two siblings.

When the time came for Christy and Rick to talk to the Earl of Nantes and his pretty little wife, Eleanor, things got a turn for the worse.

"Ah yes, the outspoken girl and her overprotective brother," Auguste said as Rick and Christy approached. "I'm surprised that your parents even bothered to prepare a ball for the both of you; quite frankly if you were _my_ children, I wouldn't give it much thought to introduce you to the rest of society."

Christy's temper rose. "Quite frankly Auguste, I wouldn't give much thought to invite you to the ball. Your absence is of no consequence to me."

"How dare you," Auguste hissed. The earl leaned forward, but Rick stepped in front of his sister protectively.

"You cross the line, young Daae," the earl continued, looking up to check whether the duke and duchess were out of earshot. "I know your father is a commoner, a commoner who pretends to be a well-bred nobleman! I should know. I was there when your mother defended him in front of half of Paris! I tell you now, you simpering little brats, your blood is not pure as the River Thames. You may have higher standing than I, but I can count on my pureblood heritage. Sewer scum!"

Unfortunately for the earl, Erik had heard the last few phrases. As soon as Auguste turned to leave, he delivered a swift and hard blow to the earl's face. Auguste flew halfway across the garden and landed on his bottom, his legs splayed. The crowd grew silent.

"I've warned you time and again, Auguste," Erik said, his voice low and dangerous. He strode slowly towards the earl, ignoring Eleanor's shrieks behind him.

The nobles quickly let the duke pass. Even Rick felt a sharp pang of fear; he had never seen his father as angry as he was now.

"Your insolence has gone far enough! Consider yourself banned from this house and from my presence," Erik continued, stopping a few feet in front of Auguste. The earl's left cheek had a huge bruise, and his left eye was beginning to swell. "I will not tolerate anyone who dares insult me or my family. Leave!"

Auguste stood up shakily, but nobody made a move to help him. With one frightened glance at Erik, the earl grabbed his wife's hand and left. Rick and Christy slowly made their way towards their father, but Christine got to him first. She put a comforting hand around his shoulders and he visibly relaxed. Christine whispered a few more soothing words in his ear, and when he turned around his expression was back to normal.

"Forgive my little outburst. A father's weakness will always be the safety and dignity of his family," he apologized. The crowd broke into nervous laughter, save for the loud guffaws that came from Eugene Colbert, who clearly found it highly amusing.

Erik then trained his eyes on his children, and his expression changed slightly. Christy sensed her father's displeasure and walked towards him.

Rick tried to follow, but his mother stopped him.

"Let them go," she told him. "They just need to sort some things out."

Rick nodded, but he could see she looked worried.

* * *

Christy knew she was in trouble. She could practically see smoke coming out of her Papa's ears, and she tried to swallow the fear that was building up her throat. But she couldn't. Despite herself, her knees kept knocking against each other, making her a bit unsteady on her feet.

Erik led her inside his study, and once she was in he shut the door with a bang.

"Papa, I.." she began, but Erik overrode her.

"How many times, Christy?" he said angrily. "I know you were trying to defend yourself, but you know that being opinionated is not part of our family's code of conduct! How many times must I stress the fact that every eye in England and France is on this family? We are an extension of the Royal Family of England!"

Erik's voice rose, and Christy practically cowered in the armchair she was sitting in. Finally she looked at her Papa determinedly.

"I am who I am, Papa, a childish and outspoken girl who will stand up for what she believes in," she said. "And if you find the image of this family more important than accepting me for who I am, then I truly find that I do not belong here. That I am really not your daughter."

Erik's eyes widened and then turned into slits. He remained silent for a few seconds as if choosing his words carefully.

"Very well. If you cannot understand my views, then act as you see fit."

Erik nodded once and then left, closing the door behind him.

Christy felt as if her entire world was crashing down on her. Her father preferred keeping a clean image for society while refusing to see and accept his own daughter for who she was.

_It's all those stupid rules_, she thought. _If I weren't here I wouldn't need to abide by them_. _I can be who I am without fear of being reprimanded, scolded, chastised, or reminded. _

"Yes," she said, and in an instant she knew what to do.

Act as you see fit, her Papa had said.

And she will.

* * *

"Erik, talk to her please," Christine begged her husband.

Erik shook his head. "I have tried to make her see reason. This family is but a foot away from the throne, and yet she insists on breaking protocol!"

"Darling, those rules are just guidelines. We need not follow them to the letter," Christine told him. "I know you want to prove your worth by showing the rest of society how well our children have become. But denying them the things that define who they are? If Christy is opinionated, let her. I was quite an opinionated girl, if you remember."

"That was different. You are recognized as the Duchess of Wiltshire, and you have been entitled to your own opinions. Christy is not. I don't want people talking about her as being a spoiled and stubborn girl!" Erik insisted.

Christine sighed. "Why does the fact that your daughter has no trouble expressing her feelings infuriate you so? Or is it because you feel that you have no right to air your opinions?"

Erik looked at her for a long time. "I just want her to be like you," he said softly.

"Then let her be," Christine said, rubbing his shoulders gently. "I remember a young boy helping me reconcile with my Papa many years ago. He told me to cherish my papa, because I would never know when he would be taken from me."

Erik smiled despite himself. "I told you that."

"And now I'm returning the advice. Cherish whatever you have now, my love. I know we've raised Christy and Rick well; they would never want to disappoint us. You also said that they should defend themselves. I believe Christy was only defending herself against that foul Auguste."

_No wonder I love this woman_, Erik thought. He nodded and stood up.

"What would I do without you?" he asked her.

"Let's make sure we never find out," she replied, leaning over and kissing him.

When they broke apart Erik smiled as Christine tapped his mask. "Where is Christy?"

"In her room. I sent Chauncy to check on her earlier." Christine laid her head on his chest. "Talk to her."

"I will." Erik kissed his wife's forehead and together they walked out of the study.

After Erik had helped Christine undress and get into her nightgown he immediately headed to Rick and Christy's room. As he opened the door a shaft of light from the hallway partly illuminated the dark room.

Erik threw the door open fully and saw to his horror all of Christy's things flung about, as if someone had packed in a frenzy.

He dashed to the library and found Rick huddled in the corner, reading.

"Rick, where is your sister?" he demanded.

His son frowned. "Isn't she in the room?"

_No,_ Erik thought. He could faintly hear Rick asking him what had happened as he made his way back to Christy and Rick's room.

Erik prayed that his eyes were playing tricks on him; that he had simply imagined the messy room and that Christy was sound asleep on her bed. When he entered the room his body grew tense. Nothing had changed. Erik even saw that Christy's favorite travelling bag was missing.

"She's gone," he whispered. "No, no no no! What have I done?"

In his mind, he heard himself say: "If you cannot understand my views, then act as you see fit."

_I practically shoved her away_, he thought. _How can I be so heartless? If something happens to my baby, I will never forgive myself._

* * *

Rick stared in disbelief at the mess his sister created. Clothes were everywhere, and she had even hurled a chest drawer - despite the gravity of the situation, Rick admired his sister's sudden burst of strength - onto the bed and had rummaged through it. The dress that she wore that afternoon lay discarded on one corner, as if she had kicked it aside with her foot.

Beside him his father was catatonic, staring blankly at the scene before him. Rick knew his father was probably mentally beating himself for being too harsh with Christy (well, that was his theory anyway), so he walked out into the hall and bellowed for Chauncy and Jean-Baptiste.

The two men arrived from opposite directions and stood before Rick.

"What is it, my Lord?" Chauncy said.

Jean-Baptiste instantly saw what Chauncy did not: the duke on his knees in the middle of Rick and Christy's room. "My God."

"Chauncy, send out any available guards we have. Search every possible port and exit in Paris! I believe my sister has run away. Hurry, for God's sake!" Rick ordered.

Jean-Baptiste knelt beside the duke and tried to shake him out of his stupor, but the duke remained as he was.

"Father? Father, say something! FATHER!" Rick shouted. Finally the duke snapped out of his stupor and stood up.

"What have I done? Your sister..."

"Father, there's no time. We can still catch up to her," Rick said.

"Yes. Yes. Saddle my horse," Erik said to Jean-Baptiste, who gave a nervous nod and ran out of the room. "Do not tell your Mother yet, Rick. Not yet."

"I understand, Father."

"We have to get your sister back," Erik said, speaking more to himself than to Rick. "I don't think I can bear to lose her."

Rick followed his father to the stables, where two horses were already saddled. Erik mounted his horse effortlessly, and Rick followed suit.

"Jean-Baptiste, send a telegram to all the nobles in the nearby towns and cities. Tell them to keep an eye out for Christy and to inform me if she arrives in any of their territories. If my wife asks where I am, tell her I took Christy and Rick to the market. Just don't tell her what happened. I don't want her to know... yet."

Jean-Baptiste nodded, and watched as father and son galloped off into the night.

* * *

**Author's Note: The next two chapters will be flashbacks, FYI. :) Reviews and reactions are welcomed! :D**


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